


Spring

by pushingclovers



Category: Dayshift At Freddy's, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Oneshot, Pre-Relationship, Takes place during DSaF 2, but it doesnt happen in the story its just mentioned, i guess??, only one bit is kinda graphic, theres mentions of springlock failure, this is probably ooc for Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushingclovers/pseuds/pushingclovers
Summary: Dave gets injured at work and Jack has to take care of it.
Relationships: Dave Miller/Old Sport | Protagonist (Dayshift at Freddy's), Jack Kennedy/Dave Miller (Dayshift at Freddy's)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 102





	Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only shot of them in my notes that I feel comfortable posting cos its not a self-indulgent mess 
> 
> Sorry if it's out of character, I'm not used to writing them just yet

“Honestly, sportsy,” Dave laughed nervously, attempting in vain to get out of the orange man’s grip. “It’s just a bite, I’ve been through worse! A mere scratch is what this is!”

Jack growled as he dragged his partner to the safe room, no doubt leaving a trail of dark blood behind them. In the middle of Dave’s ‘repairs’ on the animatronics, Foxy had decided he wanted to know if the aubergine man _really_ tasted like an aubergine, leading to the fox trying to take a chunk out of his arm as he was tightening his jaw. Naturally, Dave had started screaming like a bat outta hell, which then led to Phoney screaming and leaving Jack to take care of his partner. As usual.

With a huff, Jack slammed the door to the safe room and pointed towards the bench in the corner wordlessly. Dave’s smile disappeared as he shuffled over to sit obediently, injured arm held aloft awkwardly while he waited for the other to dig out the first aid kit. “I don’t give a damn if it’s just a scratch, Dave. This is why you take _precautions_ with the bots,” Jack muttered, half to himself as he rummaged through the plastic case for gauze. “One of these days you’re gonna lose an arm.”

“Implying I haven’t already,” he joked, biting back a grimace when Jack shot him a glare. “Okay, okay...I’ll shut up.”

“Not what I meant.” Finally, he found a roll of bandages and a gauze pad near the bottom of the kit, taking them and a bottle of water and a (hopefully) pizza sauce stained rag over to the bench. He spread out the supplies, nodding to himself before frowning at Dave. “You need to take your shirt off.”

Almost as quickly as it left, Dave’s grin returned. “If you wanted to see me naked, you just had to-“

“The sleeve is only gonna get in the way,” Jack interrupted, a little louder than intended. “I need to see the whole arm.”

The aubergine nodded slowly, hesitating before reaching to loosen his tie with his good arm. Jack turned away out of habit, ignoring the snort from behind him, waiting for Dave’s confirmation to turn back around.

He internally smacked himself for faltering at the sight of the scars covering his body, especially seeing that he saw the same ones every single day on his own skin. On him, it was like he’d been born with the things, but on Dave...

Jack shook the pang of anger away, instead focusing on the task at hand; cleaning up after the combined result of Foxy’s curiosity and Dave’s idiocy. The animatronic hadn’t done too much damage luckily, most of the blood was because a couple teeth had snagged as the fox had been pried off. Jack cleaned it up as best he could, slapped the gauze pad over it, wrapped it in place and called it good. Dave grinned up at him as if nothing had happened, his arm dropping to his side. “Thank ya, old sport! Though I wasn’t kidding when I said it was a mere scratch.”

“Maybe to you, it is,” Jack replied without much thought, rubbing absently at his shoulder. He could see a particularly jagged line in the same spot on Dave’s shoulder, where the sister suit to the one who’d caused his own injuries had jabbed through the skin and muscle and hit bone, metal clamping painfully against the shoulder-blade until he heard it cracking under the pressure, seconds away from shattering completely...

The orange man was snapped from the memory as Dave began fidgeting, smile wavering. “You, uh...ya look pretty intense there, sportsy...” For once, the aubergine man looked uncomfortable, hands rapping together in an attempt to relax again. “I guess it ain’t somethin’ you’re used to, eh?”

“Not really,” he answered softly, only half-lying. Of course, he was used to it on his own body, but seeing someone else with the exact same scars, all in the same places despite the differing stature was unsettling, to say the least. He reached out his hand again, hovering over a particularly nasty scar running down his left arm. “...how’d it happen?”

“Nothing happened, sportsy!” Jack gave him a deadpanned look. “I’m serious, they’re all just...uh...from me being clumsy! That’s it,” he added, seemingly to reassure himself in that lie.

“I’m supposed to be the clumsy one, Dave, but alright. Where’d this one come from?,” he asked, pointing to one on his wrist.

“Slipped with the nail gun.”

“This one?” His collarbone.

“Cracked it against the bathtub.”

“Mhm. What about this one?” Shoulder.

“Got caught in a knife fight.”

“...you got stabbed in both shoulders at the same time.”

“...yyyyyes?”

Jack rolled his eyes and huffed before pointing to one more, just under his second rib. “Lemme guess, you fell over and hit a screw or something.”

“Nope. Foxy’s hook.” Dave grinned again, thinking he’d won, only to falter at the glare Jack gave him. His nonexistent heart dropped as his partner leaned in close, their foreheads nearly pressed together. Just a couple more inches...

“I _know_ what a springlock failure looks like, Dave.” 

Oh. Shit.

“I think everyone here does,” he replied, trying to keep the ruse up a little longer. His wavering voice betrayed him, making Jack glare harder. 

“Maybe so. But not everyone knows how it feels.”

“I...don’t like this, old sport.”

Finally, the other softened, backing off just a bit. “When did it happen?” When Dave said nothing, Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Look...you tell me about yours and I’ll tell you about mine.”

Dave looked down at his lap, fingers tapping idly. “...1971. It was the Spring Bonnie suit, the original. We were doing a dress rehearsal before the place opened, and I guess I breathed a li’l too hard. Gave Henry a shock when he realized I was still kickin’, heh.”

“1984, back in Utah. I was fooling around and put that Golden Freddy suit in the back room on. I didn’t think it still had working springlocks.” He wasn’t going to tell Dave he died in the same place he did. If he was lucky, he never would. Besides, he wasn’t technically lying.

“Ah, the discount Fredbear. They never could get him right.” Dave sighed wistfully, glancing back up. “You should have seen the real Fredbear, sportsy! Back in his heyday, he was a hit! All the kids loved him, wanted to be front and center for all his shows. Some got a little too close, though...”

“I’m sure I would have loved him too,” Jack replied, smiling softly at Dave’s enthusiasm. He didn’t like thinking about the suit version of the bear for obvious reasons, but somehow seeing Dave gush about it made it more bearable to. 

He was about to say something more, but both men jolted at the sound of someone pounding on the safe room door, the metal hinges creaking as their boss opened the door. “If you aren’t dead or dying, get back to work, employees. Foxy still isn’t fixed completely.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin’ Phoney.” Dave rose off the bench, flexing his injured arm a bit before offering a hand to Jack to help him up. The orange man took it, and admittedly didn’t mind when their hands lingered a bit too long before they both went to their respective tasks.

One day he’d tell Dave the truth, Jack promised himself. Just not today.


End file.
